


Infuriatingly Adorable

by LyriaBlackFrost



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adverb Alert, Fluff, Light-Hearted, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 03:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11222073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyriaBlackFrost/pseuds/LyriaBlackFrost
Summary: Pitch had countless ways to describe Jack Frost, but none of them ever came close to perfectly fulfill their role. Actually, he knew that the Jack was someone who was beyond what any words could define... In both the best and worst ways.





	Infuriatingly Adorable

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revised repost from FF.net. I hope you enjoy!

_Incredibly annoying;_

_Undoubtedly obstinate;_

_Absurdly daring;_

_Naturally fascinating;_

_Ridiculously unpredictable;_

_Surprisingly impetuous._

Pitch had countless ways to describe Jack Frost, but none of them ever came close to perfectly fulfill their role. Actually, he knew that the Jack was someone who was beyond what any words could define... In both the best and worst ways.

Since Pitch accepted Jack as his first friend, the usual and peaceful silence, offered by the utter loneliness, had abandoned him: there wasn't a single day that passed without that familiar voice filling the room where the Pitch spent most of his time, stealing from him all of the attention he could be giving to any activity that had no connection with that little, restless snow spirit.

_Incredibly annoying._

Pitch sighed: annoying, but — ironically — never detestable.

He couldn't deny that, while he had difficulties to get used to his new life, just the fact that Jack was close to him was enough to cause the him a strange feeling, which was almost as difficult to describe as the young man himself. But that – just like him – was far from being something unpleasant.

“Looks like I can't get rid of him, even when I'm alone,” he thought.

It was true: no matter the time or situation, Jack Frost was always in his mind. Sometimes, Pitch tried to force himself to think of something else, but such effort always seemed to be pointless, since a single second of distraction was enough to make Jack come back, and steal all of his thoughts, like it was a prank.

_Undoubtedly obstinate._

Pitch got woken from his thoughts thanks to a small snowflake, which landed gently on his nose, causing him a slight shiver. As if drawn by those recent thoughts, Jack opened the room's door, going through it with a smile on his face, as he floated without any haste, getting closer to the Pitch, the inseparable wooden staff in his left hand.

“Hey,” he offered Pitch a brief wave of his free hand.

“I don't think 'hey' is the most appropriate thing to say after breaking into someone's house, Frost...” Replied Pitch.

“Okay, I'm sorry.” Answered Jack, though his tone made clear that he didn't really regret it in the least “Then, I'll try again...”

Saying that, he approached Pitch, until their faces were only a few centimeter away from each other, and then, showed a wry smile.

“Did you miss me?”

_Absurdly daring._

“It would be difficult, with you coming here every single day,” said Pitch.

Jack didn't mind that grumpy answer: he was more than used to that proud personality.

“Sure, sure...” He shrugged, amused by the situation.

Pitch glared at him for some time, and, although he was used to Jack visiting without a reason, he asked that habitual question:

“So, why did you come here?”

Usually, Jack would say something like “do I need a reason?” or “because I wanted to”, since it had been a long time since he stopped making excuses to go see Pitch. But this time, the answer which followed was different:

“You know it's Christmas tomorrow, right?”

Pitch frowned, not knowing what that stupid date had to do with anything.

“If you want gifts in colorful wrappings, you should have gone after that eccentric Russian, instead of me.”

“C'mon, don't be so grumpy, Pitch...” Jack complained, not really bothered by that. “Deep down, in your dark little heart, you know everyone likes both Christmas and North at least a little.”

“I disagree,” Pitch interrupted him. “And, anyway, I don't see why Christmas would ever be something relevant to me.”

As if he was waiting for that exact phrase, Jack opened a wide smile.

“Of course it is!” He slipped his free hand into his pocket, as if searching for something “Because I didn't come here expecting you to give me a present... I came here to give you one.”

Saying that, he took from his pocket a small blue box, wrapped with a delicate white ribbon tied in a small bow at the top, offering it to Pitch.

“I know it's still a little early, but...” he widened his typical smile “Merry Christmas, Pitch!”

Caught by surprise by that, Pitch found himself unable to retort, as he usually did. Instead, he just held that small and light package in his hands, observing it for some time.

“Why?” He asked, confused.

“It's normal to give Christmas presents to people who are important to you.” Jack replied.

Pitch stared at the boy, and the sweet expression on Jack's face made his typical prideful and defensive attitude collapse altogether — something that no one but him would ever be able to do. Something inside him seemed to get warmer: it was still a little strange for someone like him, who only knew — or used to know — fear and darkness, but at that moment, he felt happy.

And it was all thanks to that boy in front of him.

_Naturally fascinating._

With a rare and almost imperceptible smile on his face, Pitch undid the bow, opening that small box, looking into it with curiosity.

It was empty.

Pitch frowned, raising his face once again.

“Jack, what kind of joke is...”

Pitch didn't even have the time to finish his protest, before something soft and somewhat cold touched his lips, at the same time that a cold hand caressed the side of his face. The blue box that he was holding slipped through his fingers, falling with a faint noise on the stone floor.

_Ridiculously unpredictable._

That kiss lasted only a few moments, but it was enough to leave Pitch without any reaction. Slowly, Jack moved away, fixing his blue eyes on the widened gold ones.

“Gotcha.”

He said that in a low tone, a smile that mixed mischief and affection in his pale face. Soon after that, he gave Pitch a second kiss, but this time, on his forehead, taking advantage of his state of pure surprise to quickly fly toward the door, and then out of the room, leaving behind the lost and surprised boogeyman.

_Surprisingly impetuous._

Still not knowing what to do next, Pitch merely sat on the nearest chair. Without thinking, he placed his fingers on his lips, feeling that the skin was still a little cold were it had been touched. In contrast, however, his face seemed to burn with only the memory of what had happened.

He probably would never come to understand that boy...

_Incredibly annoying;_

_Undoubtedly obstinate;_

_Absurdly daring;_

_Naturally fascinating;_

_Ridiculously unpredictable;_

_Surprisingly impetuous._

Pitch had multiple ways of describing Jack Frost, but for him, there was one that fulfilled their role better than any other:

“ _Infuriatingly adorable...”_ Pitch thought, as he sank his face into his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gods, I think Stephen King would want to bury me with all of these adverbs... Still, I had fun both writing and revising it. :D


End file.
